your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear
by omgerinlovesloganlerman
Summary: The thing about being broken from the Siren song is that the sensation – the fear – never really leaves her. Every time something worth smiling over happens, she expects Percy to grab hold of her, to drag her under the sea and away from the terribly beautiful music.


The thing about being broken from the Siren song is that the sensation – the fear – never really leaves her. Every time something worth smiling over happens, she expects Percy to grab hold of her, to drag her under the sea and away from the terribly beautiful music.

* * *

It starts when Thalia leaves her tree. Annabeth never thought she'd see her friend again; she thought she was gone forever. And of course she wants her little makeshift family back – the Sirens know that. It's something they can use against her and it absolutely _terrifies_ her. She had read somewhere that people who experience mind-numbing fear like hers have been known to inflict pain to control it. Annabeth squeezes her hand in a fist so tight her palm starts to bleed and the fear goes away. Thalia is alive and it is not a dream.

* * *

A few months later she latches herself onto the back of a manticore in order to save her friends; as a result, the manticore jumps off a cliff, taking her with it. She free falls for a few hundred feet, expecting to die upon impact. It's not such a bad way to go, really, saving her friends and dying in battle. She murmurs a quick prayer to her mother and to Hades before blacking out entirely.

When Annabeth awakes, she doesn't know where she is. She's surrounded by crumbling columns of black marble, but nothing else is visible in the fog. She wanders around aimlessly for a good three-quarters of an hour before she comes upon another living creature: Luke. She runs towards him, noticing his pale, clammy skin. He's struggling with _something _and she immediately goes to help. Turns out he'd become even more deceitful in his absence – he allows her to take the weight of the sky from him and doesn't even have the decency to look apologetic.

She loses track of time after that.

Eventually, Percy and Thalia arrive and all throughout the battle that ensues, a tiny voice in the back of her mind is telling her that it's not real. It's a dream and the Sirens are going to kill her any moment. She tries squeezing her fist again, but the pain of bearing the weight of the sky must have cancelled the effect. The fear is still paralysing her. Then, Luke is knocked off the cliff and she knows it's real – the Sirens would never show her that. (Secretly, she wishes it _was_ a vision. His mangled body haunts her dreams for weeks).

* * *

The Athena and Apollo cabins train together in the arena every other Tuesday. She's combatting with Will Solace and he manages to knock her dagger out of her hand, slicing her palm in the process. He naturally rushes forward – sputtering apologies a mile a minute – and heals it immediately, but it leaves a jagged scar.

* * *

Annabeth and Percy are in Mount St Helens, hidden behind a giant bronze cauldron. The young telekhines pour out of their classroom and it's only moments before the dog-like creatures find them.

"I've got a plan," Percy says. "I'll distract them. You can use the metal spider – maybe it'll lead you back to Hephaestus. You have to tell him what's going on."

"But you'll be killed!" she protests, feeling as if two hands are closing around her throat, suffocating her. Percy's gotten himself out of the seemingly impossible dozens of times before, but this… This she knows he can't bounce back from.

"I'll be fine. Besides, we've got no choice."

She surges forward, grabbing hold of either side of his face and kisses him – on the lips! – before pulling back, placing her cap on her head, and sprinting out of the forge. The spider does lead her back to Hephaestus, but she's not sure how much of the story he's able to understand. She's crying violently, gasping for air after every couple of words.

The spider then helps her back to camp. Castor and Pollux are guarding the entrance to the Labyrinth when she bursts through. They wrap one of her arms around each of their necks and carry her to Chiron, who notices that Percy is not with her, but doesn't ask her about it. She's grateful. Explaining everything to Hephaestus was hard enough, and he hardly even _knew _Percy – hardly even knew what he meant to her.

All of the campers are kind to Annabeth in the days that follow her reappearance. Clarisse doesn't even make a snide remark about how Percy's big ego finally came back to bite him in the ass. She continues on with her daily activities, but does so emotionlessly, feeling completely and utterly empty.

After two weeks, Chiron declares Percy dead and orders the fabrication of his burial shroud.

The day of the funeral Malcolm has to drag her out of bed. He trades chores with one of their younger half-sisters, who then helps her into a plain black dress and braids her hair gently. The ceremony is like all the others, except for the fact that the burning shroud is for her best friend. She goes to say something – anything – when she spots a familiar mop of black hair in the crowd.

"He's right there!" she cries. In all the excitement following Percy's return, no one notices the blood seeping from her scarred palm.

* * *

Manhattan falls asleep, Annabeth takes a poison knife to the arm, and Luke turns out to be the hero of the prophecy. It's Percy's birthday, so she takes on Tyson as a baking partner, resulting in what looks more like a blue rock than an edible cupcake. And if she purposefully takes it out of the oven without wearing oven mitts, well, nobody will be none the wiser.

* * *

She finds new tricks, new ways to keep the fear at bay. However, she refuses to be one of those girls who _cuts_ herself. She has some dignity.

* * *

Annabeth is twenty-three years old when she and Percy are expecting their first child. She hasn't had to inflict any sort of intentional pain on herself in months, but the whole pregnancy glow is really making it difficult. She's happy, and hormonal, and has weird sleeping patterns due to cravings and soon the fear starts seeping back in to her life. She had never expected to live long enough to have a baby, let alone with Percy. It's just the sort of thing the Sirens would create to lure her in.

She can feel herself getting closer to their island than ever before and she has to stop it. She won't let them take her, won't let them fool her. She is a daughter of Athena and she is _better_ than that.

Percy comes home from the store six minutes later to find his wife on the kitchen floor in a pool of her own blood. He's not an expert, but he watches enough TLC to know that it is not a miscarriage. He frantically calls for an ambulance and grips her hand tight the entire ride. His other hand rests on her slightly swollen stomach.

The doctors in the psych ward don't have a diagnosis. The closest they can get is schizophrenia, but she insists she doesn't hear voices. Once Percy whispers that they lost the baby, she confesses.

"I'm – I'm scared, Percy. I'm scared that none of this is real and – and you're going to grab my ankle and drag me under water and I'll still be thirteen and swimming towards those d-damned Sirens and –" She cuts off, unable to continue. It's like all of the air is being sucked out of the room.

Percy squeezes her scarred hand and kisses her temple and she doesn't know why he's being so good to her. She killed their baby and probably destroyed their marriage and she doesn't deserve this – she doesn't deserve him. It takes a few moments for her to realise that something good is happening and she doesn't hear the Siren song.

* * *

The Sirens do drag her under, in the end.

Her name is Anita Ventura; she lives in Barcelona and is ninety-two years old. She's in her bed in her granddaughter's home and the radio is playing an old song from decades previous. The music fades out and a new song begins to sound. It's all vocal, without any backing instruments, and it makes her feel light. She drifts off to sleep, slowly, peacefully, happily.

When Annabeth awakes, she is in an unfortunately familiar place: DOA Recording Studio in Los Angeles, California. She finds a golden drachma in her back left pocket and hands it to Charon. The three judges in the Underworld – Louis Pasteur, Barack Obama, and John Lennon – deem her third life worthy of Elysium and a black robed ghoul escorts her to the Isles of the Blest.

* * *

**A/N:** i spend a week trying to write something, only to be inspired at two in the morning the day before i leave for vacation why does this happen to me

* * *

**Disclaimer: **PJO belongs to RSquared; dialogue in canonical time line is quoted directly from the respective books

* * *

**Note:** a lot of this was based off of sammy winchester's season seven character arc (supernatural); it is kind of a darker theme, and i hope to one day have the chance to explore it further and actually do it justice


End file.
